


Meltdown

by Phoenix974



Series: Autistic Mac [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Bad Parent James MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Good Parent Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack helps him, Mac has a meltdown, Meltdown, Neurodiversity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix974/pseuds/Phoenix974
Summary: After a long day disarming bombs, Mac has a meltdown. Jack helps him.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Autistic Mac [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093901
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Meltdown

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this entirely based on my own experiences with autism. I do not want to offend or upset anyone. If there any inaccuracies, please let me know so that I can correct them.

“Hey, Mac!” Jack said as they went back to their barracks after dinner in the mess. 

“What is it, Jack?” Mac replied, somewhat annoyed. 

It had been a long day. Jack and Mac were out searching for and disarming IEDs for nearly fourteen hours. At this point, Mac just wanted to collapse on his bunk and get some sleep. He felt like he was getting near having a meltdown, and that was not going to happen in front of his overwatch. Especially because Jack was prone to teasing him. Jack would never tease Mac about something like a meltdown, but after growing up with James MacGyver as a father, Mac doesn’t exactly have the most self-confidence.

While Jack would never tease Mac about something like a meltdown, they haven’t known each other for very long. Because of this, Jack doesn’t yet know how to tell if his bomb-nerd is about to have a meltdown, shutdown, or even just go nonverbal. So, Jack continues. He has found that pretty much the only time he can get anything out of Mac about himself is when Mac is nearly asleep. Jack isn’t sure if it’s healthy for the kid to have this many metaphorical walls built up around him, but he is slowly trying to be let in on his partner.

“You never really talk about family or anything. What did you do for the holidays as a kid?” Jack says, continuing their conversation. 

“Eh, it depends. Do you want to know about when I was really little and my mom was still alive, or when I was a teenager?” Mac responds. 

He figures that he can probably hold off the meltdown, and the only way to get some sleep is to shut Jack up. The only way to shut Jack up, Mac has found, is to answer his questions until he gets bored. Mac can also usually manage to give vague answers that don’t really tell Jack anything. 

“Either, or both. Whatever you are comfortable talking about.”

“Well, before my mom passed, she would always put up a Christmas tree. She and I would decorate it on the first day of the school holidays, and then we would bake cookies together. She basically tried to make my childhood as normal as possible.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, did she know that you had autism? Or were you not diagnosed until after she passed?”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you asking. Just please don’t tell the other guys, they think I’m weird enough as is. They don’t need to know that there is actually something wrong with me. Anyway, I was diagnosed when I was 4, I think. My mom didn’t die until I was almost 6. Even when she was in the hospital, though, she tried to help me. My dad never really did that. Anyway, after she died, the holidays weren’t really celebrated. Dad thought that they were a waste of time.”

By this point, Mac was rocking back and forth slightly and twisting paper clips between his fingers. Sensing that he may not be able to just sleep off an almost meltdown, and worrying that it was going to get to an actual meltdown, Mac abruptly left their barracks. He was going to go to the edge of the base. Somewhere that no one else would find him. Unfortunately, he had factored Jack into his equation. 

Jack was starting to get worried. Scratch that. Jack was incredibly concerned. Before he left, Mac was rocking and stimming. Things that Mac never lets himself do, so for it to get out of his control, things must be getting pretty bad. Then, Mac just jumped up and ran off. ‘Now,’ Jack thought, ‘that isn’t so unusual.’ The kid was always running off, not thinking of the consequences or even just waiting a couple of minutes for Jack to follow as back up. So, this wasn’t unusual, but the way Mac ran off was concerning. Jack couldn’t exactly explain how, but it just felt… off. Naturally, Jack follows his bomb-nerd. 

Mac went straight to the farthest edge of the camp. The quietest, most deserted place in the camp. Somewhere that no one would see or hear him, and somewhere that no one would bother him. It was a bit cold out, for the desert, that is, but Mac didn’t mind. The slight chill helped to keep him grounded. He knew it wouldn’t help for very long though. That is when he heard his partner’s voice calling out. Mac mentally cursed himself. Of course, Jack had followed. Jack had become oddly protective of Mac. Most of the time, this didn’t bother Mac too much, but now, now was not a good time. 

“Mac, buddy. Where are you?” Jack called as he looked for his partner. A minute later, Jack found the scrawny kid curled up next to one of the few trees on the base. 

“Hey, Mac,” Jack started in a soft voice, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Jack doesn’t get a reply. Mac won’t even look at him. While not making direct eye contact isn’t unusual for Mac, he normally will at least look in Jack’s general direction. This isn’t the case, which causes Jack to worry more. Not to mention the fact that the kid is rocking back and forth almost violently, and his hands are pulling at his hair. Jack starts by pulling Mac’s hand towards himself. That way his partner doesn’t hurt himself accidentally. 

“Mac, are you okay?” No response. 

“Are you hurt?” Again, no response. 

“Should I bring you to medical?” This time, there is a slight response. Mac flips his hand so that the palm is facing down. Jack correctly assumes that this is a form of communication. 

“Mac. Is that a yes/no system?” Mac turns his hand the other way. 

“Is up yes and down no?” Mac keeps his hand turned up, so Jack assumes he is correct.

“What’s wrong? Oh, right. No open-ended questions. Yes or no only. Is this a shutdown again?” Mac turns his hand over. So it’s not a shutdown. Jack remembers Mac saying that he had meltdowns occasionally, but Mac said it had been years since his last one. 

“Is it a meltdown?” Mac turns his hand up. Yes. ‘Okay, it could be worse,’ Jack thinks. ‘At least he is somewhat coherent.’

“Is it okay that I’m touching you?” Jack doesn’t want to let go of his partner’s hands for fear of what might happen, but he doesn’t want to make Mac worse either. Luckily, Mac keeps his hand turned up. 

Deciding that communication is a necessity, Mac tries to use morse code to talk to Jack. He knows that the only way to make this any quicker is for someone to apply constant pressure. When he was little, his mom used to hug him, but after she died, he would just sit in a closet and wait it out. In an attempt to tell Jack this, Mac turns his hand over and taps the morse code for mom, hug into Jack’s hand. Luckily, Jack understands and pulls Mac into his lap, squeezing as tightly as he can, without breaking any bones. 

After about an hour, Mac has calmed down and is mostly coherent. Not enough to hold a conversation, or even to talk, but enough that Jack can get him back to their barracks and into bed. As Mac drifts off to sleep, he knows that tomorrow isn’t going to be fun. Jack is going to lecture him on talking about when he isn’t feeling well, physically and mentally. But, Mac can’t seem to bring himself to care because he knows that Jack cares. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this, and that you have a good morning/day/afternoon/evening/night!


End file.
